Unnamed Apartment Complex in Bellingham
Nameless, faceless walls
Naked in the mirror
Nameless, faceless sprawl
Naked is the interior
Natural dignity falls
Narcissistic, invisible, inferior
Nighttime, answering in nameless, faceless calls
Naked preferable to the ulterior.
The guardrails in the halls run cold
The white walls yearning to kill the bold
These marketplace mock-ups that struggle to avoid getting old
These mongers of IKEA furniture.
Nameless, faceless nights
My nameless, faceless dread
The nameless, faceless freedom
Of those bent on ignoring the dead.
The Eye of the Sore (Unnamed Apartment Complex in Bellingham Pt. 2)
I live in the eye of the sore.
Demarcated by white walls that marble, countertops gleam
Each new surface that whispers
“Visit me.”
I live in the eye of the sore
Stewing in neighborhood hatred of me
I’ve lost that beauty of the old. That dust mite-ed, cockroach-ed, capacity for glee
They vanquish color as poison
Swap clean from mystique
Smiling faces, unturned heads
Clear passion for space to think
I live in the eye of the sore.
I live with an eye on the quietest storm
Generation of more
The hearty, silent, forlorn
Generation of guilt from all those who lived before
I live in the eye of the sore
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Have something to say? The Front welcomes opinion pieces, commentary, illustration and other creative works from members of the Bellingham and WWU community. Contact eic.westernfront@gmail.com to pitch an idea or submit a piece.
Tim Donahue (he/him) is a twenty-year-old English major at WWU who published a book of poetry called An Education: Pocket Poetry From The Days of Constant Change in September 2021. This Western Sophomore writes both poetry and novels and is scheduled to release another book called The Clipper Of Wings later this year! For more information, head to his Instagram @t.donahue_
